The Fall of Nigel
by Count Doofus
Summary: This is my story of how Nigel went from famous actor to a smugglers hench-bird. Second fanfic ever.
1. White Fury

**This is my second fanfic ever, this time about the downfall of Nigel's acting career, and him joining up with the poachers.**

**Chapter One: White Fire**

He started to gloat. Just a few more obstacles, and Sergio Sargasso would be home free. Not even Nigel would be able to stop him. He just needed to cross that border into Paraguay, and he'd be forever freed from Brazilian jurisdiction.

He crashed through another police roadblock. The reinforced grill on the front of his Hummer didn't even budge. In fact, nothing of it did. Being a crimelord, Sergio had his whole car reinforced to handle any situation. Armored plating, bulletproof glass, nitrous system, the works. The bottom of the car wasn't reinforced, though. To maintain the Hummer's balance, they actually had to remove some of the protective plating. This left many weak spots, but Sergio didn't care, since who would be able to get underneath a speeding Hummer? It was locked up tight and guarded all the time when it wasn't moving. But it was moving now, and though Nigel was good, but even that surely had to be beyond his capabilities.

Sadly, Sergio was right. Tried as he might, Nigel tried to assault the car from various angles, but to no avail. Bulletproof windows and armored plating were beyond his ability to breach, and trying to get underneath the car would be plain suicide. Sergio was moments away from winning, as he only had a few miles left to go to cross the border. The man who was responsible for the fire that left thousands of yards of Rio's rainforest in ashes and millions of wildlife animals killed or homeless was about to get away with it. Animals that Nigel had sworn to protect. He was running out of time. If Sergio escaped, he could rebuild his gang in another country and resume his criminal activities there. But what could Nigel possibly do?

Then an crazy idea popped into Nigel's mind. He was briefed about Sergio's car being vulnerable at the bottom, but didn't know how to use it to his advantage. Until now. He quickly glanced around at the several rocks strewn about. He was looking for one that wasn't too large and not too small. Picking one up to his liking, he flapped his wings as hard as he could to get some distance out in front of the car. Sergio looked up at as Nigel was passing him by. "_Ave burra_(1)," he thought. "Is he trying to attack me with rocks now? He must be getting desperate!" The thought strengthened his resolve to reach the border.

"Now or never!" Nigel thought to himself. He dropped the rock on the road. Merely a moment later, Sergio drove over it and sent the rock flying. Nigel hoped his plan would work.

And it did, at least part of it. The rock was catapulted hard enough to strike the one of the fuel tank's pipes, and poked a hole in it. Fuel now gushed from the hole, leaving a trail of it on the asphalt, exactly what Nigel hoped for. He landed at the start of the trail, in his claws a piece of scrap metal from a police car Sergio busted through earlier. If this didn't work, Nigel could never show his face in Brazil again. He'd only be known as the one who let the most dangerous criminal of the decade escape.

He put the scrap metal on top of the fueltrail. With his razor sharp beak, he struck it with such a force, a large spark birthed from it, setting the fuel afire. Given the amount of fuel spilled, the fire rushed after Sergio's car, faster than it was driving. Nigel smiled.

The border was in sight. Sergio could almost taste his victory. He was so caught up in his euphoria, he didn't bother to look in his rear-view mirror to see a trail of fire catching up to him. It reached him just a few yards before the border.

The car exploded in a huge ball of fire. The ring leader of the already decimated Arara Maluca(2) Syndicate was no more.

Nigel saw the explosion from a distance. His sworn enemy was defeated, the loss of the rainforest and its inhabitants avenged. Smiling, he turned around and moved towards the arriving law enforcement units.

"Aaaaaand cut! That's a wrap!" the director yelled through his megaphone. The whole crew started applauding, the hard work of filming the season finale of "Fly Hard" coming to an end. Nigel himself flew up and onto the arm of his agent. The fierce white cockatoo was a magnificent example of his species. Underneath the dirt from the scene he just did, his long and elegant feathers were as white as mountain snow. His crest was a smooth yellow. He was truly a sight to behold.

"As always, superb job, Nigel!" he said. "Nothing better to end a season with a big bang. Everyone everywhere will want to see this!" Nigel squawked in glee, or at least his agent thought he was. In reality, Nigel was saying: "Of course they will, you idiot! They will just because I'm in it! There isn't a bird anywhere else that even comes close to my talent. Now take me to my trailer, and clean me up. There's dust all over my feathers!"

As his agent did just that as if he could hear him, Nigel was lost in thought over how much fame and fortune he'd receive from this season of his television show. "Ah, I can't wait to rake in all the glory once again! Interviews, late night show appearances, publicity and of course, the ladies. How I do love the attention from the ladies... One look from me, and they're like snow melting in the su-YEOWTCH!" He turned around with a menacing look towards his agent, whom while grooming him, accidentally pulled out a tailfeather. Nigel started squawking vigorously at him, probably shouting several obscenities. The agent hurried to get out of the trailer if he had any hopes to leave with all his fingers intact. "Incompetent fool..."

A week after the finale had aired, Nigel and his agent were invited to the studio headquarters where his show is always filmed. "No doubt to offer another contract for another season," Nigel thought confidently. "They'll have to add another zero to the numbers though. Imported Indonesian fruits are expensive."

Arriving at the office of the company manager, the agent talked to the secretary. "Hi there, the greatest avian actor in the world and his agent, here to see Mr. Borges." The secretary looked at them with her eyes above her glasses, as if she wasn't impressed at all. "Right. One moment please." She pushed the button on the intercom next to her. "Mr Borges? Nigel and his agent are here to see you." A voice through the intercom responded: "Thank you, Miss Torres. Send them in." She gestured at the office doors.

Mr. Borges' office was massive. It had a view that looked over the better part of Rio de Janeiro, and also a part of the favela. The floor was made out of dark green marble, and across the otherwise white room, several pillars spread. Lush plants filled up every corner. On the walls were pictures of Mr. Borges shaking hands with celebrities, and framed posters of all the successful TV-shows and movies the company had created or sponsored. Nigel couldn't help but notice that "Fly Hard" wasn't among them.

Mr. Borges himself was a very fancy man. He was in his mid 50s, slightly balding and wore a set of rectangular specs. The custom tailored suit he wore every day was dry cleaned every other day, and on his desk was an original Cuban cigar sitting in a marble ashtray, right next to a shot glass filled with tequila. "He could do with losing a few pounds, though," Nigel thought to himself.

The agent sat himself in one of the leather chairs before Mr. Borges' desk, while Nigel hopped on the one next to it. Mr. Borges couldn't shake the thought of Nigel possibly damaging a very expensive chair with his bare claws, at least for now. "I'm glad you could make it, because I have an important matter to discuss with you," he started. Nigel already started to smirk. "Of course you do. You're going to offer me another 25-episode season of "Fly Hard". What else could we possibly be here for?" As if his agent could read minds: "I've got a pretty good idea. You want to record another season of "Fly Hard", right?" "Yes, indeed," Mr. Borges answered. Nigel started looking out the window when he heard that. With the money he'd make from this next season, he was going to buy a penthouse with a view like this. Maybe even a better one. "But not with Nigel."

The image of a view on Rio in his mind shattered, as if someone threw a boulder through a window. "Without me? What in the world is he talking about?" he yelled, sounding to everyone else as a unsettling squawk. Mr. Borges elaborated: "I hate to break it to you, but the audience is sick of Nigel. The ratings are at an all time low. Surveys indicate people had enough of "Fly Hard" to last a lifetime, and that Nigel was the cause of it. They've seen it all. People want a fresher, brighter, younger, more colorful avian hero." As he said this, he opened a desk drawer and pulled out a map, which he handed to the agent. "This is him."

The agent, hands slightly shaking from being baffled from this unexpected news, opened the map. In it were pictures of a pretty green parakeet, posing in several heroic positions before the camera. "Meet Petricious, a Paraguayan parakeet. He will be filling Nigel's shoes... figuratively speaking. Testing audiences adored him, for he has a lot more grace than Nigel, and we believe he will breathe new much-needed life into "Fly Hard". So in case you still haven't figured it out yet... Nigel, you're fired."

Miss Torres, the secretary, was busy filing some paperwork, when all of a sudden a tremendous racket was heard in Mr. Borges' office. Most of it were things breaking, Nigel squawking like mad and a man screaming for his life. She swung the doors open, to find the office turned upside down, and Mr. Borges running across the room, with a furious Nigel chasing him, trying to land a bite into his backside. The agent sat huddled up in his chair, trying not to get hit by Nigel's fury. She closed the doors again, ran to the phone on her desk, and called security. It wasn't long after that Nigel and his agent were forcefully thrown out of the building into the parking lot.

It didn't take long before the news got out. The next day, Nigel's replacement was the headline on every newspaper in the country. Nigel couldn't believe what was happening. He went from riches to rags in a heartbeat. No other company was interested in casting him for any other TV show. Nobody cared about him anymore. Not even his loyal agent, who wasn't about to take care of a bird that couldn't provide. He wandered the streets running parallel of Ipanema Beach to look for someone or something to comfort him. Instead, he heard laughing coming from somewhere above him. On an ledge of a one story building sat two macaws, one was bright orange and the other had blue wings, head and tail, and a yellow body. "Well, well, if it isn't the former super actor. What's the matter, parakeet got your contract?" The orange macaw burst into laughter right after he said that. The multicolored one added fuel to the fire: "Maybe if you had some nicer colors like an **actual** bird from Brazil, you'd still be employed. There's a painter around the corner with a can of blue paint, that color would suit you just fine right now!" As the macaws continued laughing and insulting him, Nigel started to get enraged. Before his eyes, the two macaws started to turn green, the same green as the parakeet that was now in the studios taping new episodes _he_ should be starring, which made him only madder. He continued hearing the macaw's insults until something finally snapped in him. He launched himself at the two macaws, who immediately stopped laughing when they saw the anger on his face. They tried to fly away, but Nigel managed to grab them both by one leg each. The shock of their interrupted momentum knocked the two birds' heads together, stunning them both for a moment. Nigel let go of their legs, then skillfully grabbed both of them by their necks, and said to them: "Let's see if you can turn blue without using paint!" while squeezing his grip tighter. The macaws started to flail around as they began to suffocate. Nigel watched in glee as their efforts to struggle out of his grasp slowly diminished. They started to black out, their limbs becoming too heavy to move. Finally, they stopped resisting altogether, even though were still breathing. "Now let's see if you can turn red too!" He shouted, as he started flying high up into the sky. When he was high enough to see half of Rio, he let go of the birds, who then plummeted towards the earth, barely aware of their impending doom. Nigel watched as a few moments later, what were once two gorgeous birds, turned into two red puddles on the streets of Rio(3). "Ooh, that's going to be tough for the cleaners. Let this be a lesson to everyone who dares to mock me again!" With that, he took off, heading towards the wilds of the jungle.

**To be concluded**

(1) Portuguese for 'stupid bird'

(2) Portuguese for 'Crazy Macaw'

(3) I really didn't like Nigel having to kill a few macaws, but in 'Nigel's Song', he states to be a bird murderer. That's why I had this happen.


	2. A new Line of Work

**Chapter 2: A New Line of Work**

When the city of Rio was no longer in sight, Nigel landed on a branch, reflecting on recent past events. He lost his job, his fame, his glory, his attention with the ladies, all of it. On top of that, he took the life of a few macaws without any hint of mercy. He didn't feel anything for them then, and still didn't now. "I solemnly swear, anyone that even looks at me in a way that is not to my liking, they will suffer for it! Any living being that crosses my path will face the consequences!"

Nigel heard some rustling in the bushes beneath him. He looked down, expecting to see some more insignificant beings that he would willingly take care of if they even bothered him. But instead of seeing any kind of wildlife animal, he saw another kind of species: humans. Three of them, to be exact, all male and young. They were carrying loads of equipment, although Nigel couldn't really make out exactly what they had with them, for they had far more stuff with them than a normal hiking trip would require. One of them had a lot more equipment on him than the other two, given he was almost three times the size of them. Not because he was strong, but rather fat, thus he had more room on his back to carry stuff. He started to talk. "How much further, Marcel? I'm getting tired and thirsty and all these cages are starting to weigh through!" One of the other two men turned around, presumably this 'Marcel'. He shoved a canteen into the fat one's chubby hands. "Then have a drink, you big girl. Those cages will weigh a lot more once we've got them stuffed full of birds. Now be quiet, we should be getting close any second now. Don't scare them off!"

Cages? Birds? Nigel didn't have to think long to realize what these men were doing. They were poachers, here to capture exotic birds to sell for a profit. "They better not come after me. I won't allow them to capture me, and they'll pay dearly if they even try." However, he was intrigued, and followed them as they moved on.

As the chirping and squawking of several birds got louder and louder, the men moved slower and quieter. Nigel flew a bit before them, investigating the sounds before the men could see where they were coming from. Poking his head through the leaves, he could see dozens of beautiful colorful birds, all minding their own business. He wondered if he should warn them they were in peril, but then remembered his oath he swore to himself a while ago. Instead, he decided to help the poachers if need be.

The humans arrived below him. They ducked behind a bush, out of sight of the clueless birds, and started to unpack their equipment. Cages, nets, fishnets, everything needed to jump out and return home with a large bounty. Cages were camouflaged, and fruit and seeds planted inside to lure the birds in. Once they had everything in position, they were getting ready to make their move. Marcel waited patiently until the majority of the birds was in those cages, and all three of them had nets ready to catch any birds that made a break for it. He then proceeded to pull on a string, which initiated a complex sequence of more strings which shut all of the cages at once. The birds caught inside started to panic, thus alerting the birds that were still free. These started to scatter around to flee from the sudden, unseen danger. That's when Marcel and his henchmen jumped out, and managed to catch a few more birds who were unfortunate enough to fly near the hunters, instead of getting away from them.

Marcel then noticed a very special bird. One of which he knew was extremely rare and thus, valuable. It was a black macaw, with a bright white beak, and yellow feathers at the tips of its wings and tail. He quickly grabbed another net and made a swing at it. "Tipa, Armando, get that one!" he yelled. His henchmen turned around, saw the bird Marcel was trying to catch, and got a new net themselves. All three of them waved the nets around in an attempt to catch it, but the macaws kept skillfully dodging the nets, as if he was playing with them. Finally, when the macaw started to feel tired, he gained altitude, to seize any attempt of the poachers catching him. He reached the treetops, escaping the reach of the nets, securing his freedom. But there was one thing he didn't take into account.

One of his own kind.

Nigel watched as the poachers had caught all of the birds they could, but saw they had trouble with that particular black one. If he was going to have it in for every other pretty bird out there, he might as well make himself useful. This way was just as good as to get back at them.

He dove in from behind, seizing the black macaw by the neck. He got the air knocked out of him for a second, then realized what just happened. "What are you doing? Let me go!" he managed to say. "Sorry, pretty bird," Nigel retorted, "But your days of freedom are over." He cackled like a maniac, lifted the macaw up, and headed towards the poachers. He looked for an empty cage, threw the macaw in and slammed it shut, the shock securing the lock into place. "How... could... you..." the macaw said, dazed from the impact. Nigel just looked at him with an angry look, one that would kill if it had the ability to. He then turned towards the poachers.

All three of them were astounded. They just witnessed their prize handed to them by a cockatoo. But not just any cockatoo. "Hey, I know that bird," Marcel said. "It's Nigel from "Fly Hard!" Armando, the thinnest of the two henchmen, asked: "Didn't he get fired?" Marcel recalled this morning's newspaper. "Yeah, indeed he did. And now look what he just did. He helped us catch a rare bird, and made us a fortune!" Tipa, the fat one, was holding a net, ready to fling it towards Nigel. "Should we catch him too?" Nigel steeled himself and got ready to assault Tipa if he tried that, but Marcel slapped him across the face. "No you idiot, he just helped us! Don't you understand what this means? It means he doesn't care much for these birds no more than we do when we sell them off. If he were with us, he could become a perfect scout, look out for more rare birds, and help us catch a lot more game than we usually do!" He turned towards Nigel, and held out a forearm. "What do you say, Nigel? Care to help us some more?" Nigel squawked, flew up and landed on Marcel's arm. "Haha, nice! You're going to be a real asset to our little team, Nigel! Those dimwits at the TV studios dropped you like a brick, but with us, as long as there is a market for exotic birds, you'll never run out of work!" Nigel squawked at the thought. He'd empty the whole forest if he could, just so his thirst for revenge could be sated, if at all.

They set out every other month to capture more birds, and they would always return bountiful on every trip. When that time was there again, Nigel scouted ahead to find another pack of birds. He came across an area filled with them. These birds somehow where in the middle of what seemed song, dance and music.

**All the birds of a feather  
>Do what they love most of all<br>We are the best at rhythm and laughter  
>That's why we love carnaval<strong>

"Not so good at watching your surroundings, I hope" He thought, flying off to the three poachers closing in behind him. The birds continued to sing and dance, unaware of what was about to happen to them. Mere moments later, birds left and right were getting caught in all manners of ways of captivity. When the runners had scattered, Nigel saw something in the corner of his eye. It looked like a blue dot falling towards the ground. Upon inspection, he saw that it was a very rare baby blue Spix macaw that tried and failed to fly for the first time. Nigel headed back to the poachers, grabbed a cage, squawked at Marcel so he would follow him, and headed back to the tiny chick. Nigel dropped the cage on top of him, which Marcel then collected. "Nice one, Nigel! This one is very young, but he should sell very nicely. You'll get a nice reward when we get back to our holdout." Nigel gave a wry smile at the chick, which cowered in the furthest corner of the cage it could find.

Over the years, Marcel and his henchmen's activities of smuggling birds made their notoriety grow, mostly thanks to the efforts of Nigel. They established a large network of informants, one of them even working in the local avian care center. They were also occasionally asked to fill a specific request, which they would always meet. This time though, they just received a request that was going to be very tricky, even for them. A customer wanted a pair of the last blue Spix macaws on the planet for his collection, and was willing to pay huge for them. Marcel contacted his informants, and all them responded negatively, save for one: the one working in the care center. They had recently found a female blue Spix macaw, and the owner of the care center, Tulio, set out into the world to find a male one. A few days passed until Marcel got contacted by the same informant. Tulio had found a male in Minnesota, USA, and had convinced its owner to come to Rio. As this was great news for Marcel, he'd now have to come up with a plan to get to them.

He and Nigel were walking on a market when they heard a commotion behind them. They turned around to see what was going on. A young boy, wearing the outfit of his favorite Brazilian soccer player, was running away from a stall owner. In his hands were a couple of apples he just stole. Given his youth, he was much faster and agile than the merchant. An idea rose in Marcel's head. "Nigel, follow that boy. I think I've got a plan."

Fernando stopped in a dark alley, panting from the running. He had managed to lose the merchant in one of the many narrow streets running through the favela. Sitting down, he was looking forward to taking a bite from one of the apples, since he hasn't eaten all day. Being an orphan, he had to fend for himself in any way he could.

He heard movement coming from his right. First, he thought it was the merchant who found him after all. Instead, it was another man with a cockatoo on his shoulder. Neither of them looked very friendly, but Fernando had nowhere to go, as this man was blocking the only way out of the alley.

"Hey, kid. Are you interested in making some money? I've got a job I can't be seen doing, and you'd be perfect for it," Marcel said. Fernando didn't like his current situation, but he didn't exactly have much options right now. "What do you want from me?" "Not here. Follow me to my place, and I'll explain."

Eduardo and Vavara, two employees of Centro de Conservaçao Ambiental, the avian care center run by Tulio Monteiro, were walking through the jungle, in search of birds that were in need of any help. They heard a slight moan coming from the bushes up ahead. They turned to each other. "Did you hear that?" Vavara asked. "Yes," Eduardo replied, "it sounded like a bird groaning in pain." They sneaked closer towards the bush, and pushed its leaves gently aside. There, they behold a white cockatoo, clearly sick from a tropical fever. "I know that bird! That's Nigel! They spat him out when his career ended," Vavara stated. As she moved closer to Nigel to pick him, she said "Don't worry Nigel, we'll take care of you. A bird that isn't native to Brazil shouldn't be out here at all. I wish those mean TV folks just sent you to us, then you wouldn't be sick like this right now." Nigel, keeping up his charade, laughed inside. "Just take me to your aviary, I can't wait to get rid of you two already. I just hope Fernando delivers..."

And with that, Nigel was brought to the care center. The male blue macaw was to be brought in tomorrow and placed with the female right away, and with Nigel on the inside, it would just be a matter of time before Marcel would get his hands on them.

**The End (of this story)**

Notes: I know it's weird for the smugglers in the movie being the same ones that caught baby Blu for the first time, and it probably wasn't them in the first place (and Nigel probably wasn't helping them too), since there's 15 years in between. This is just some liberty I took for this story.


End file.
